


i want to write you a song

by naomi_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing and Singing, Feels, Gabriel Ships It, M/M, Musical, Singing, Supernatural Musical, lap dance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naomi_winchester/pseuds/naomi_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A huge ass song fic, AKA, the Gabriel-inflicted SPN musical everyone wants.</p><p>Gabriel starts something that would take longer than he thought to finish. A spell to make people unable to stop sharing their feelings, with a trickster twist, gets a bit out of hand. When will the singing stop?</p><p>Huge ass disclaimer inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you know those hips don't lie, but maybe you do

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, okay, so this idea has been used before, but hey, I’m always finding myself trying to find another one, and everyone’s dying for it to become canon, so I might as well. This is the product of me listening to 700 songs on shuffle, and realizing over half of them are good for Supernatural fics. Of course there won’t be 350 or + songs in this damn thing, but I damn well tried XD
> 
> So here I present you with: A supernatural musical fic caused by Gabriel.
> 
> And here is a HUGE ASS DISCLAIMER: Supernatural and it’s characters are not mine. Any and all songs are not mine, and if the song has been used in a fanvid, they almost most definitely came up with it first. I changed the lyrics to some songs to fit the situation (in other words, so the wincest stays brotherly), so if it’s wrong just don’t mind it. Three of those songs are fansongs and were written and sung by aquaswept on Tumblr, she’s brilliant and I love her voice, and I asked her specifically if I could use them in this fanfic. I’m not doing Angel With A Shotgun because everyone knows that song fits, but it’s been written and fanvidded (NEW WORD, YAY) a billion times and I personally love ‘Disney Princesses Never Had It This Good’ by crossroadswrite, who uses it as the first song in her musical fic. It’s awesome, go read it. 
> 
> I’M NOT POSTING THIS ON FFN BECAUSE THOSE PEOPLE ARE EVIL jk jk jk But they have some serious issues with song fics so I’m not even going to try or I’ll be bitched out by people who are like, “YOU CAN’T DO THAT BLAH BLAH BLAH” so yeah. Love FFN but it’s not happening folks.
> 
> Also, if you feel like anybody is OOC, 1, it’s FANFICTION. If you want something that’s just like them, stick to the show, I doubt the writers will make them all… not them… so…
> 
> 2, I doubt they had the characters unable to stop sharing their feelings in song (which I imagine is very embarrassing, since Supernatural is basically based off of lies and gay subtext, so…)
> 
> Just keep it in mind that I might just fuck up the whole thing and stop the apocalypse on a whim. #spoilersthobecauseIamEricKripke
> 
> I’ll just stop talking now. BYE

The silence in the car was overbearing to Sam. Silence gave him time to think, it always had, but now, right at this moment, he didn’t want to think.

 

He didn’t want to remember that it was  _ his mistakes  _ and  _ his actions  _ that started the apocalypse. Dean was next to him in the driver’s seat, but it didn’t feel like it. His brother only stared at the road, knuckles tight around the wheel, not acknowledging Sam’s existence. Dean hadn’t said anything to him, nothing at all. He hadn’t yelled, he hadn’t expressed disappointment, nothing. Sam just couldn’t take it.

He opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly, music filled the car out of nowhere, startling Dean out of his ‘ignore the world’ stupor. It was a crescendo of music with faint guitars in the background, but it was also clearly not coming from the radio. Sam frowned at the music when his mouth was pried open by an invisible force.

 

_ “Know I've done wrong, left your heart torn, is that what devils do?”  _ Sam heard himself sing, blinking in surprise. His voice, contrary to how it really sounded, was  _ nice,  _ and it came out almost naturally. He looked at Dean, who was giving him weirded out glances from the driver’s seat when he wasn’t looking at the road.

 

_ “Took you so long, where only fools gone, I shook the angel in you!”  _ At this Dean snorted. His amusement faded quickly with the next few lyrics belted out.  _ “Now I'm rising from the crowd, rising up to you! Filled with all the strength I found, there's nothing I can't do!”  _ Sam was reminded of the feeling the demon blood brought, and by the look on Dean’s face, it was what he was thinking of too. 

 

_ “I need to know now, know now, can you love me again? I need to know now, know now, can you love me again? I need to know now, know now, can you love me again? I need to know now, know now, can you love me again?”  _ The way the phrase was repeated shook Sam emotionally, but also that it was  _ true.  _ He did need to know, could he be loved again? He started the apocalypse, that’s not something that could be forgiven. He turned to Dean, vaguely aware of the music fading, eyes desperately searching for something. Disappointment, anger,  _ anything.  _ He heard Dean sigh as he pulled into an empty parking lot as stopped the car, and another tune came into the background, what sounded like,  _ electric piano?  _ It played short little beats of music, then he saw Dean open his mouth.

 

 _“I ponder of something great, my lungs will fill and then deflate. They fill with fire, exhale desire, I know it’s dire, my time today.”_ Dean’s voice was smooth, but deep, and filled the car with sound, the words coming quickly out of his mouth, the song fast-paced. “ _I have these thoughts, so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought,  'cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence.”_ There’s a little pause, and Dean turns to face him, his face troubled. _“Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My pride is no longer inside. It's on my sleeve, my skin will scream reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.”_ Sam vaguely remembers Dean’s broken, twisted face from the night he told Sam what happened in Hell. The agony at the things he had done. Dean’s face grew angry as he slams his fist on the dash. _“I hate this car that I'm driving, there's no hiding for me! I'm forced to deal with what I feel, there is no distraction to mask what is real.”_ Dean’s face turns contemplative as he stares at what has been his home since he was four. _“I could pull the steering wheel.”_ Sam stares at him in horrified fascination. How long has his brother felt this way? _“I have these thoughts, so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought 'cause somebody stole my car radio, and now I just sit in silence.”_ Suddenly the music cut off, leaving Dean panting. He had obviously been fighting the urge to sing, and now it was taking its toll. Once he caught his breath, he leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, and Sam could vaguely hear him murmur, “It’s okay, Baby, I didn’t mean it,” and realized he was talking to the car. He felt his face morph into a bitchface. “Oh my God, Dean, we were just forced to sing songs about our feelings, and we sounded _good,_ and you’re _apologizing to your car?!_ Not only that, but you’ve been ignoring my existence since I started the freaking _apocalypse,_ Dean! Don’t you have anything to say to me? _”_  Dean turned to him angrily. “Well, what do you want me to say?! That I’m angry? Disappointed? I’m sorry, but I can’t feel anything but just… _tired._ I’m _tired,_ man.” Sam watched as Dean leaned back against the seat, face haggard and worn out and _exhausted._ He was vividly reminded that his big brother had been through _hell and back,_ and now he has to deal with his little runt brother’s mistakes.

 

Sam sat there for a bit, trying to think of something to say. Finally, he settled with, “What do you think did that?” Dean gave him a long look before starting the car and saying, “I don’t know, but whatever it is isn’t going to last very long.” He pulled out of the parking lot after a few moments of making sure neither of them were going to burst into song again, and kept driving. Suddenly there were was music again, but Dean ignored it and kept going, sure that it wasn’t him. He didn’t feel the pull of emotions, and he knew Sammy was a total girl, so it’d be him. The music was odd to Dean, seeing as he’d only listened to rock and roll. He glanced out of the corner to see his brooding brother, listened as he started to sing.

 

_ “All we do is drive, all we do is think about the secrets that we hide. All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign. Sick and full of pride; all we do is drive.”  _ Sam’s face wasn’t forced to do the frowning, he did it himself. He felt himself agree with the words and sing them a bit more willingly than he knew Dean would. Dean didn’t want to share anything, he was so emotionally constipated that Sam wondered how he would handle this. How would Dean handle it if it never stopped? If all of their secrets were out in the open?

 

_ “And the impala never felt like home to me, and the impala never felt like home. And the impala never felt like home to me, until I had you on the open road and now we're singing…”  _ The song faded out and Sam took a chance to peek at Dean, and noticed that while his hands were tight on the steering wheel, he had a tiny smile on his face, as if he were remembering all the times they were honest-to-God  _ brothers _ , not this big mess of a family. The times that occasionally Dean would sit in the back with Sam rather than sit next to their dad up front, talking, and even though Sammy and Dean had different interests, they would make the effort and end up enjoying themselves, or the times where Dean would let him sleep on his shoulder because they had been in the impala forever, or when Dean would take Sammy to nice places and splurge for his birthday, all happening in this car. 

 

The car never felt like home if Sam was the only one in it.

 

Nothing was said about the sudden song, and all they did was drive.

 

**~ooOOOoo~**

  
  


“So what do you think’s doing this?” They were in the hotel, and after they both washed up, they immediately got to business. Sam shrugged in reply. “Really, I don’t know much about monsters that enjoy making people sing about their feelings. But I feel like it would have to be someone we’ve met, or it would be everyone, not just us. And I don’t know about you, but I haven’t heard anything about people suddenly singing.” Dean nods thoughtfully, frowning at the table as he ran through anybody that was capable of something like that. “Witches?” he suggests, but immediately Sam shakes his head. “We don’t know anyone personally, and all of the one’s we’ve met were killed or lost their power.” Dean thinks again. “It could be a relative of a witch we ganked?” Sam nods before he suddenly groans. Dean panics. “What? Sammy! What’s wrong?”

 

Sam rubs a hand wearily over his brow. “It could be that damn trickster.” Dean groans with him. “Not that douchebag.”

 

“That’s not very nice boys.” The brothers whirl around, coming face to face with a smirking trickster. ‘ _ Cas, if you can hear me, we have a problem down here,’  _ Dean prayed, because apparently the last time they had run into this bastard, he died over one hundred times. Almost immediately, Cas zapped himself in, standing between the trickster and Dean. “Get back.” Dean stepped behind him, watching warily as the trickster’s grin grew wider. “An angel, huh?” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, another song was on. Dean wondered what Castiel could possibly be hiding when the trickster said, “Maybe this will get the stick outta your ass.”

 

The music started almost at the same time Dean opened his mouth.  _ “Gentlemen up in here tonight, no fighting, no fighting. We got the refugees up in here, no fighting, no fighting.”  _ He sent a panicked look to Sam as his hips started moving with the trumpets in the background. “ _ Castiel, Castiel!”  _ He looks up at Cas to see him dancing almost as sensually as he was, probably more, but he can also see his confused eyes. He kind of wants to laugh at his misfortune, but more of the song comes out instead.

 

_ “I never really knew that he could dance like this, he makes a man wants to speak Enochian,”  _ then Dean proceeded to sing what he guessed was Enochian, and if Cas’ blush was anything to go by, it had to have been dirty. “ _ Castiel, Castiel!”  _ He frowned internally but couldn’t move away as Castiel came closer, swishing his hips in a way that had Dean staring lustfully. He could just blame it on the mojo later, if anyone noticed.

 

_ “Oh baby when you talk like that, you make an angel go bad, so be wise and keep on reading the signs of my body,”  _ Castiel’s voice was as deep as ever, gravelly tones singing the song just right, seductively perfect. Dean’s hands moved with minds of their own, stroking down Cas’ sides to rest on his hips, pulling him closer and turning him so they were back-to-chest. Cas rolled his hips against Dean’s, ass resting against Dean’s groin as he turned his head to Dean to sing,  _ “And I'm on tonight, you know my hips don't lie, and I'm starting to feel it's right. All the attraction, the tension, don't you see baby, this is perfection.”  _ Dean caught a glimpse of toned chest under the angel’s dress shirt, which he had untucked earlier, and he couldn’t help but agree, if only in the deepest darkest parts of his mind. In the corner of his eye he can see Sam  _ not doing anything,  _ just sitting there with the trickster, watching the song unfold with a smirk. He huffed mentally until he was interrupted by his own part.

 

_ “Hey boy, I can see your body moving, and it's driving me crazy,”  _ as there was a short pause, Dean nipped Castiel’s ear like his body commanded, moving his mouth closer to the angel’s ear as he sang,  _ “And I didn't have the slightest idea, until I saw you dancing.”  _ He moved away, watching as the angel’s face flushed bright red, internally cursing the trickster for getting him into this situation in the first place. “ _ And when you walk up on the dance floor, nobody cannot ignore the way you move your body, boy. And everything so unexpected - the way you right and left it. So you can keep on shaking it.”  _ Sure enough, Castiel was shaking it, and even though he wasn’t as close to Dean as before, he still felt the heat of arousal just as much.

 

 _“I never really knew that he could dance like this, he makes a man want to speak Enochian,”_ and here, where Dean knew that the words were Enochian, and that he couldn’t understand them, the trickster suddenly snapped his fingers and he could. **_“What is his name, beauty, my house, your house.”_** No wonder Cas blushed, he was basically saying, “Hey, you’re pretty, we can go to my house, or your house…” 

 

_ “Castiel, Castiel!” _

 

_ “Oh baby when you talk like that, you make an angel go bad. So be wise and keep on reading the signs of my body!”  _ This lyric was accentuated by a sassy shake of his hips, and even though Cas was turned away from Dean, he couldn’t escape his heated gaze, and the angel felt Dean’s eyes running down his body. But it was just the trickster’s work, surely? He frowned internally (seeing as his face was stuck in a sexy smirk, it seemed) and for the tenth time tried to fly away from the situation, but there seemed to be barrier between this room and anywhere else. 

 

_ “And I'm on tonight, you know my hips don't lie, and I am starting to feel you boy.”  _ Cas stalked toward Dean with determined steps, Dean backing up into a motel chair, smirking as he sat down. Castiel felt alarmed as he kept going,  _ sitting in the human’s lap. _ It appeared he was still moving his hips, slow, sensual movements that gave his vessel curious reactions. He threw his head back as he sang,  _ “Come on let’s go, real slow, don't you see baby  _ **_this way is perfect_ ** _?”  _ Castiel shivered at the way his own language sounded, even more sensual than English. Dean, on the other hand, was too caught up in his lap dance to even care. He was full on hard now, had been since he realized that he was going to get a lap dance from the angel. It was even worse now that Castiel was most likely unknowingly grinding down on his cock. Dean tried to be subtle as he pushed back with his hips, trying to get some friction.

 

_ “Oh I know I am on tonight, my hips don't lie, and I am starting to feel it's right. All the attraction, the tension, don't you see baby, this is perfection.”  _

_ “Castiel, Castiel!”  _ This phrase came out in more of a moan as Castiel gave a particularly hard thrust, and Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm as he looked down at their bodies. 

 

_ “Oh boy, I can see your body moving, half animal, half man. I don't, don't really know what I'm doing, but you seem to have a plan,”  _ Cas sings, looking at him hopefully, and Dean kind of crushes that hope and his dignity as he sings,  _ “My will and self restraint have come to fail now, fail now.”  _ And together they sing,  _ “See, I am doing what I can, but I can't so you know, that's a bit too hard to explain.” _

 

And suddenly, the music comes to a sudden stop, and Castiel and Dean have control over their own bodies again. Almost immediately Castiel stands and adjusts his pants, then turns to the trickster. “How can you overpower an angel so easily? It should not be possible!”, he says demandingly. Dean only sits, dazed, most of the blood leaving his groin to flush his face at his actions. The trickster only shrugs cockily. “What matters is that I did it, but unfortunately, it didn’t seem to loosen you up. Right, Dean?” The trickster winks as Dean’s face flushes a new shade of red at the innuendo. Sam only snickers from the side as Castiel quickly zaps out of the room in embarrassment after stealing another glance at Dean’s little ‘problem’ . Dean turns to him angrily. “And you! You just sat there! We could’ve used your help, dude!” Sam’s face turned serious. “I was stuck.” 

 

Dean gapes at him. “You… were stuck.”

 

Sam nods. “To the chair. I mean, it was kind of funny at the beginning,” Dean glared at him, “but then it got super gross at the end. I don’t want to watch my brother get a lap dance again anytime soon.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

The trickster clears his throat. “If you’re quite done now, I should be leaving-” But before he has the chance to go, another song starts up, and by the surprise and anger on his face, it obviously wasn’t planned.


	2. my reflection is my enemy

_ “I stare at my reflection in the mirror… _ ” Dean elbowed Sammy with a grin at the first words of the trickster’s song, but Sam waved him off, staring at the trickster intently. His voice was beautiful, even though Sam hated himself for even thinking it after the mystery spot, and it was pleasant to the ears. 

_ “Why am I doing this to myself? Losing my mind on a tiny error, I nearly left the real me on the shelf. No, no, no, no, no…” _ The trickster looked almost pained to sing it, as if he were resisting, and Dean had no doubt he was trying, if it were anything like when he had to hit Baby. The trickster’s eyes became unfocused as he sings,  _ “Don't lose who you are in the blur of the stars! Seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing-” _

_ “It's okay not to be okay,” _ Sam joins in, light and comforting. Dean looks at him like he’s crazy, but Sam pushes on. 

_ "Sometimes it's hard to follow to follow your heart. But tears don't mean you're losing, everybody's bruising, there's nothing wrong with who you are."  _

To Dean's dismay, he becomes the background singer, his deep bass singing,  _ "Who you are, who you are, who you are," _ over and over until the trickster sings again, shocking everyone.

_ "Hiding my Grace- do I look human?" _ The trickster now had tears in his eyes from the effort of resisting the spell, but there was nothing he could do. _ "I forgot what to do to fit the mould, yeah."  _ Sam and Dean glanced at each other in alarm. He's an angel?

The trickster was running his hands through his hair, nearly pulling it out in distress. _ "The more I try the less it's working, 'cause everything inside me screams no, no, no, no, no, no, no,  _ **_NO..._ ** _ " _ A little bit of the trickster angel's true voice slips out, and the Winchesters cover their ears and shut their eyes as the nameless angel struggles to contain himself. He glances up at Sam, almost pleadingly, as he sings, _ "Don't lose who you are in the blur of the stars! Seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing..." _

The song temporarily pauses as Sam hesitates, breath hitching as he looks into the angel's whiskey colored, tearful eyes. He quickly moves his gaze to the floor, where it's less intense, and clears his throat.

_ "It's okay not to be okay," _ he sings softly as he looks up again, and he doesn't know why he sings it. He knows the song wouldn't make him sing something he didn't mean, so it wasn't like he was lying to the angel. Maybe it was the angel's eyes, he thinks, that made him say it.

_ "Sometimes it's hard to follow your heart," _ Boy, did Sam hear the truth in that. It reminded him of going to Stanford, and leaving his family behind. No matter how it looked to anyone else, it was one of the hardest things Sam had ever done. _ "But tears don't mean you're losing, everybody's bruising, there's nothing wrong with who you are." _ Sam's voice was reassuring as he reached out, putting a steadying hand on the angel's shoulder. Sam wished he knew his name.

The angel gave a tiny smile before he frowned and pushed Sam away from him.

_ "Yes, no, angels, fake shows, oh no, just go and leave me alone!" _ The angel's gaze softened as he sang,  _ "Real talk, real life, good love, goodnight, with a smile, that's my home!" _

It was with more of a soft sadness that he sang,  _ "That's my home. No..." _

Sam said nothing, so Dean broke the silence. "No offence, pal, but I don't think heaven's all that great." Sam glared at his brother. "Dean!" he hissed. The angel held up a hand, a sad smile on his face. "No, no, he's right." Dean raised an eyebrow. "He is? I mean, uh, I am?"

The angel nodded as he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. I don't even need to see it to know. I can hear it."

Sam looked at him strangely. "Hear it?" 

Dean was a little more blunt. "How can you hear that heaven sucks?" The short angel sighed. "I was there when it fell apart, for starters. My brothers- Lucifer and Michael -would fight all of the time. You must already know that of course, but the way they fought... It changed heaven. The fledglings, they became intimidated, never asked the archangels, the elders, for help when they needed it, and the older angels all picked sides. The younger angels used to sing- heaven’s choir, you know? Now all I hear is orders being given and received, and for the angels that can remember what it used to be, I hear their grief.”

Dean didn’t say anything after that. Sam looked at him hesitantly before asking, “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Gabriel,” the short man admitted. 

Sam looked at him in awe with a hint of wariness. “The archangel?  _ You’re  _ the archangel Gabriel?” 

Dean looked at him only warily with raised eyebrows. “Woah woah woah. You’re an  _ archangel?” _

“Dean!” Sam scolded him.

“Well excuse me, but none of his brothers are exactly the type of people that I want to hang out with. No offense, I guess,” he says waving his hand in Gabriel’s general direction.

Gabriel just gave him a smirk. “Aside from the fact of there being no way that isn’t offensive-” Sam rolled his eyes, “I left heaven for a reason. I’m not gonna go  _ too  _ cliche and say, ‘I’m not like them’... But I just want to help. I’m not on Michael’s side, or Lucifer’s. I want to help the people.”

Sam and Dean shared a long look before giving a quick glance to Gabriel.

“Let’s do this,” Dean said, clapping his hands together.

+++

Things had gotten tense between the two Winchester brothers again after Gabriel left to go help Castiel with his search with God. Sam guessed it was because there was no one there to distract themselves with, other than women and booze, but that just wasn’t Sam’s style.

No, when Dean was doing that, Sam was doing a few secrets of his own.

The blood dripped from the wound and knife into the dirty rusted motel sink, probably leaving another stain on the thing. The knife was held shakily, and the cuts were jagged because of it, leaving Sam with scars that would never look right. He didn’t mind though, because for him, watching his polluted blood go down the drain felt right. He knew he should stop, and tried to stop, but he just couldn’t.

Because even though he had been clean from demon blood ever since Lucifer rose, and purified on the mysterious plane ride, he didn’t feel like he was. He could feel the scars of taint on his soul, a sin that would never be erased, never forgiven.

Even though he felt he would be purified  _ finally  _ if he just let it run until all of it was gone, he couldn’t. Then, he would be dead, and he couldn’t very well repay his debt to the people if he were dead. It was the only thing holding him back at this point. That, and his other secret…

“Samuel! What the hell are you doing?!” 

Him. Sam still wasn’t sure if he was a hallucination or not, but either way, if you’d told him before all of this that he’d be seeing the devil, he’d say that he probably deserved it. Except for one thing.

The devil appeared to care for Sam.

It showed as he took the knife from Sam even though he could have just banished it out of existence with a snap of his fingers, throwing it into a far corner of the room, where it slid across the floor to rest ominously in the corner. It showed when he took his still bleeding arm in one hand, and took a cloth in the other and gently wiped the blood away. It most definitely showed when Sam heard the murmur of, “Why Sam, why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Just like every time this happened.

Lucifer’s vessel that he currently had was small compared to Sam, but then again, everyone was. Sam hated it, being taller over everyone else. It was a power he didn’t want. He knew it was a strange wish, but he wished at least the  _ devil  _ would be taller than him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said hoarsely. “You don’t care, anyway. You just want me alive so I can be your stupid vessel.” 

Lucifer stopped his gentle scrubbing. “Is that what you think this is about?” he asked in a deadly tone. Sam looked at him warily. “Why would it be about anything else?” Lucifer looked up at him, his eyes an icy blue. “Listen Sam, I wouldn’t be doing this just because I want you alive, hell, if you died I could just bring you back.”

“Fine,” Sam acknowledged.

Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief and started cleaning the wounds again. 

“The only other reason you would be nice to me is to suck up to me. Get me to trust you, listen to you, take your side. Say yes,” he said bitterly. Lucifer didn’t even stop this time, gently dabbing the wounds dry before beginning to wrap them. “Even if that was what I was doing, you need someone to do this for you, because you’re poor piss brother and that angel pet of his don’t even care enough to notice,” Sam opened his mouth to interrupt and defend them, when Lucifer said, “But even if they did, Dean wouldn’t put aside his pride to help and Castiel wouldn’t understand, he’d just heal you with a touch to the forehead and leave.”

Sam faintly remembers the words from one of the songs yesterday.  _ Sick and full of pride. _

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Sam says softly. “I’m done with this anyway, maybe if I stop you’ll leave me alone.”

Lucifer shook his head agitatedly. 

“You just keep telling yourself that, Sam. You know, maybe you’re right, maybe the  _ twelfth time _ is the time you quit.” He finished wrapping the bandages, then added softly, “I used to do it too, you know.” Sam looked at him disbelievingly. “The devil, cutting?” Lucifer sits on the edge of the crappy porcelain bathtub. “I know, it sounds crazy, but the first time wasn’t voluntary. The cage… it was designed to torture me. To punish me. It… First it showed me memories. It would show me my dreams, my family actually being a  _ family, _ then it would show me reality. After I was  _ utterly heartbroken, _ ” he spat, “It restrained me while cutting my wrists, letting me bleed out onto the filthy floor, leaving me for an hour in my own waste and blood. Soon,” he said softer, “it didn’t need to restrain me. I did it myself just to be in control of the pain, of  _ some pain.” _

Sam studied him intently, looking for lies, but only finding the truth. He remembered their words from their first conversation.

_ “ _ _ I will never lie to you. I will never trick you. But you will say yes to me.” _

**_“_ ** _ You're wrong.” _

**_“_ ** _ I'm not. I think I know you better than you know yourself.” _

Sam wonders if this is what he meant by that.

“I’m sorry,” he offers. “For everything.”

“None of it was your fault,” Lucifer said lightly. ‘ _ It was mine,’ _ the angel thinks.

The song starts with a little piano solo.

_ “You come to me with scars on your wrist,” _ Lucifer’s voice rings out, and it’s beautiful, and Sam knows that it’s the real Morningstar’s voice, not one provided by the music. _ “You tell me this will be the last night feeling like this…”  _ And as Sam hears him sing it he knows it’s not true. He doesn’t know if he’s ever  _ not  _ going to feel like this.

_ “I just came to say goodbye, I didn’t want Dean to see me cry, I’m fine.”  _ Sam’s voice was shaky, but it steadied as he sang with Lucifer,  _ “But I know it’s a lie.” _

Lucifer turns Sam to face him as he sings,  _ “This is the last night you’ll spend alone! Look me in the eyes so I know you know, I’m everywhere you want me to be.”  _ Sam looks at him in slight shock. Why couldn’t  _ Dean _ be the one to tell him this? Why couldn’t  _ Dean  _ be there when he needed him?

Just once might’ve been enough.

_ “The last night you’ll spend alone, I’ll wrap you in my arms and I won’t let go, I’m everything you need me to be.”  _ As Lucifer sings this he gently tugs Sam into a hug, where Sam sings muffled into his shoulder,  _ “Your parents say everything is your fault, but they don’t know you like I know you, they don’t know you at all.” _

Lucifer looks at him, surprised and genuinely happy that someone believes in him. That someone cared. He knew there was a long way to go, but a start was better that years of nothing.

Sam burrowed further into his shoulder with a sob.  _ “ I’m so sick of when they say, ‘It’s just a phase, you’ll be okay, you’re fine.”  _ Sam thinks of Dean, and how he never wants to talk about his feelings at all. Soon he didn’t want to talk about anyone’s feelings, and that included Sam’s. Of course, he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. John was just the same, and he also basically hated his youngest, blaming Mary’s death on him. He’d never talked about his feelings to anyone.

_ “But I know it’s a lie.”  _ Sam’s voice cracks with emotion as the song dwindles down, and he’s still being held by the shorter-than-him devil, crying in his arms like a child.

When Dean comes home he’s drunk, and as he collapses onto his bed he never notices the bandages on Sam, the tear tracks on his face, or the tiny smile he has as he slept, clinging to a small, fragile looking angel wing necklace.

Lucifer sits invisibly in the large armchair in the corner of the motel room, fingering the other half of the necklace as he watches over Sam.

For the first time, he looks up to the ceiling, and he prays.

_ ‘Oh Father, give him love. Give him hope. Please, help him live.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used:
> 
> Who You Are - Jessie J.
> 
> The Last Night - Skillet
> 
> AN: So a sad chapter for y'all, and I can't honestly say that the next chapter is any happier.


	3. i'm sorry but i need some air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things happen, of course. It's Supernatural, what did you expect?

When Dean wakes up, he’s hungover. He rubs his temples in hope of the pain going away, and groans when it doesn’t, getting up to take a morning shower. He doesn’t spare a glance at Sam’s bed.

 

Just as well.

 

Sam wasn’t there.

 

Sam was at a park a few minutes away, having jogged there early in the morning. He sat on the bench, holding the necklace in his bandaged hand while watching the empty playground.

 

This, of course, meant that he could no longer pretend that Lucifer was only a hallucination. He mostly didn’t want to. Last night, when he had been feeling so down, the angel had been there for him and comforted him, holding him and letting him soak his clothes in tears. He had taken Sam to his bed, carried him there and tucked him in like a child, then lay with him on top of the blankets until he had fallen asleep. Just before he had, the angel gently put a necklace around his neck, letting the charm rest over his heart.

 

Sam remembered waking up with the necklace in a death grip.

 

He had no intentions of ever letting it go.

 

But there was also the problem of Lucifer not being able to stay in Nick’s body for very much longer. While Lucifer helped him, maybe even cared about him, he still had plans for the apocalypse, as far as Sam knew. Lucifer had tried to stay off the subject the night before, so Sam wasn’t sure.

 

But it was all a possibility.

 

Sam found that even after realizing that, he still wanted Lucifer to stay. It was just the perceptions of having someone to finally help him, be with him, care for him. Sam knows that Dean cares for him, that’s not what he’s saying.

 

But Dean is afraid to show it, quite often, and Sam needs more than that. And it hurts him, knowing that Dean would likely never be as open with him as Lucifer is, because he and Dean, they’ve been together their entire lives!

 

But there was almost never a time during their lives that Dean was ever open with him at all. He was the classic ‘strong-but-silent’ type, a ‘feelings are bad for you’ kind of guy. Sam was the opposite, and well… he never really got all that he needed from his brother, the only constant in his life. Many times he had wished his mother was there with them.

 

Would they be living an apple pie life? Or would they have still been dragged into the hunting life? Would Dean and John be more open to themselves and others?

 

Would Jess have died?

 

These are all things he asks himself constantly.

 

And as he sits on the park bench, he knows that things will never be that way. He knows he’s stuck here, as a broken man with a broken family and a broken life. And he knows that this would sound odd to anyone else, but he thinks maybe Lucifer can shine some light on his life.

 

After all, he was the one to fuck up everything, breaking his brother's trust and freeing Lucifer, starting armageddon. His brother could barely look at him, let alone want to protect him, keep him alive.

 

It was part of the reason he wanted to kill himself. All he’d had was his brother, and now Dean couldn’t stand him. Hated him, even. He had a hard time believing Dean even  _ loved  _ Sam anymore. Sam had caused him so much grief with his fuck-ups, the least he could do is get rid of himself and end his brother’s troubles.

 

With a heavy heart he made his way home at a slow walk, knowing that as a Winchester, the easy way out was never an option.

 

But he could try.

++++

 

When Sam walked into the motel room, the first thing he saw was Dean’s angry face.

 

“Where have you  _ been?” _ he shouted.

 

Sam’s eyes widened as he stuttered out, “I j-jogged to the park. What’s going on?” Dean made an angry noise from the back of his throat. “You, man! I don’t know if I can trust you to travel with me, let alone go off on your own!” Sam’s brows furrowed. “I’m not a child, Dean. I can go places on my own.”

 

Dean looked at him fiercely. “Can you, Sam? Can you?”

 

The hurt on Sam’s face only deepens as a song starts up. He self-consciously hides his wrists behind his back as Dean starts to sing, regret lacing his voice.

 

_ “Never thought that we would end up here, should’ve known it from the start. I know you mean it when you say you love me, but we’re trying way too hard.” _ Sam slowly starts shaking his head in denial.  _ What is he saying? _

 

Dean struggles to keep it in. He doesn’t want to make it even worse, and he just knows that’s what this song will do. Then again, he has no doubt that Sam already knows how he feels.

 

_ “Used to think that this would last forever, how could I have been so wrong? Never thought I’d be the one to say this, but if our time has come and gone…”  _ Dean holds his arms up in a ‘surrender’ gesture as he sings,  _ “You, you don’t mean no harm, but you’re stringing me along, and I don’t have the time to spare.” _ Sam is frozen where he stands, feeling almost nothing but a sense of disappointment.

 

In himself.

 

_ “And I, I’m trying hard to breathe, but you’re suffocating me! This time I’m coming up for air,” _ Dean sings, an expression of ferocity and defiance on his face, an expression of hurt on Sam’s.

 

_ “Air, air, air, air,” _ Dean sings, Sam joining him, _ “Air, air, air, air, air, air, air, air!” _

 

Sam tries to shake himself out of it, tries to leave, but the song is adamant he stays and listens to what Dean has to say. However, the tears do not stay where he wants them to, streaming down his cheeks.

 

_ “Always trying to put your two cents in, and expecting me to change. Try to fix me up but I’m not broken, all you do is leave me stained.” _ Dean’s words are harsh but the song is soft, both of the variants breaking Sam again like it was nothing. There’s a bang on the door but no one can answer, rooted to the spot. They can’t even look in the doors direction.

 

Sam gripped his necklace tight, revealing one bandaged hand. Dean’s eyes follow it, curious, but he can only sing more of the treacherous song.

 

_ “Told you not to tie me up too quickly, take it slow it’s not a race, and you keep on trying to reel me in, but all I really need is space.” _ The door bursts open, the song suddenly stopping as the intruder snaps his fingers, anger seeping from him. He walks quickly to Sam in several long strides, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and guiding him out the door.

 

Dean runs to the door as fast as he can, but they’re gone. “Sam!” he shouts. When he realizes this is futile, he calls for somebody else. “Cas! Gabriel! Sam’s been taken, I really need your help, right now!”

 

Gabriel is the only one who answers, standing in the doorway. “I know. I saw.”

 

Dean turns and gulps, “I, uh, I never meant-”

 

“But you felt it strong enough that my spell interfered. You can't change what you feel, Dean. Not unless you can see the truth.” Gabriel stands taller. “But we might have even bigger matters.”

  
  


++++

 

_ You, you don’t mean no harm, but you’re stringing me along, and I don’t have the time to spare. _

 

The words echoed in Sam’s head as he sat numbly on the hotel bed. Lucifer sat next to him, looking concerned. “Are you okay, Sam?” 

 

“No,” Sam said hollowly. 

 

Lucifer shakes his head disbelievingly, scoffing. “I can’t believe he had the  _ nerve _ to-”

 

“Feel that way?” Sam interrupts bitterly. At this, Lucifer deflates. “Oh, Sam…” He wraps his arms around the taller one, holding him close. “I wish you didn’t have to hurt so much.” A tear slips down one of Sam’s red cheeks. “Yeah, me too,” he says as he returned the embrace, nuzzling deep into Lucifer’s chest as he moves to lay down onto the bed with Sam still in his arms, both falling into a comfortable silence. Lucifer starts to hum a lulling tune, calming Sam, occasionally rubbing his thumb over Sam’s skin where his hand rests. 

 

Sam looks up at him. “Hey… Luc?”

 

Lucifer looks down at him. “Hmm?”

 

Sam shifts a bit uncomfortably in his arms. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing for me, but…” Lucifer frowns. “But?”

 

“Do you still want to start the apocalypse?” Sam blurted out, looking up at him, desperate for the answer.

 

After all, this could change everything.

 

Lucifer sighs. He had known the question was coming, but did it have to be now? He knows that if he says the wrong thing that it could be the end of what he has, and that was the real question, wasn’t it?

 

_ Was the apocalypse worth losing Sam? _

 

Sam sits up, eyes tearing up as he asks, “Luc?”

 

_ Was it worth losing the familiarity and comfort that came with that name? _

 

He gave another heavy sigh. “Sam… I-” Guitar strumming starts in the background.

 

Lucifer begins to sing softly,  _ “ _ _ Slow down, the world isn't watching us break down. It's safe to say we are alone now, we're alone now.”   _ Sam frowns, singing his own verse.  _ “Not a whisper, the only noise is the receiver. I'm counting the seconds until you break the silence, so please just break the silence…” _

 

Lucifer looks away from Sam, singing in almost a whisper,  _ “The whispers turn to shouting…”  _ Sam grimaces as he agrees with him,  _ “The shouting turns to tears.”  _ Lucifer frowns at Sam’s unhappiness and places a finger under his chin, lifting it up to glance into his eyes.  _ “Your tears turn into laughter…” _ Sam gives a small smile.  _ “And it takes away our fears.” _

 

Lucifer grins back at him. _ “So you see, this world doesn't matter to me. I'll give up all I had just to breathe the same air as you till the day that I die!” _ Sam smiles so brightly at him that Lucifer can feel his heart warm, just basking in Sam’s joy. 

 

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door. 

 

Sam warily gets up from the hotel bed, whispering to Lucifer, “Did you take us to a taken room?” Lucifer frowns and shakes his head, following Sam to the door. Sam opens the door only to try and slam it shut once he sees who’s outside. 

 

“Aw, c’mon Sammy, don’t be like this!” Dean stuck his foot in the door to keep it from closing. Behind Dean is Gabriel, who presumably took him there. Sam ignores Dean to give Gabriel a betrayed glare. “ _ Gabe!”  _ he whined. Gabriel’s eyes left Sam’s to glance back at Lucifer, telling Sam silently why he did it. 

 

A tune carries out, drawing Sam’s attention to Dean, who’s sulking. _“You gotta go and get angry at all of my honesty…”_ Sam get’s angry with this statement, in fact, he almost slams the door shut again, but it softens the tiniest bit as Dean sings, _“You know I try but I don't do too well with apologies. I hope I don't run out of time, could someone call a referee?”_ He looks up at Sam, eyes and heart open. _“Cause I just need one more shot at forgiveness.”_

 

_“I know you know that I made those mistakes maybe once or twice…”_ Dean trails off, then cringes as he sings, _“By once or twice I mean maybe a couple a hundred times.”_ He steps in the door, Gabriel following and shutting the door behind them. _“So let me, oh let me redeem, oh redeem, oh myself tonight… Cause I just need one more shot at second chances.”_ Dean holds up one finger, and Sam doesn’t know what to say as his big brother kneels down and looks up at him and sings, _“Yeah, is it too late now to say sorry? I admit I can be a bit cocky.”_ Dean grins. _“Is it too late now to say sorry?”_ Then Dean frowns. _“Yeah, I know that I let you down, is it too late to say I'm sorry now?”_

 

The song cuts off but Dean doesn’t move, no matter how much his knees hurt. He needs Sam’s forgiveness like he needs to breathe. 

 

But after that horrible song before, could Sam do it?

 

A broken man kneeled before another broken man and the question was, could this broken mess of a family be fixed?

  
Sam’s breath hitched before he threw himself into his brother’s arms, joining Dean on the floor and just breathing the other in because he needs it and each knows that he’s forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used:
> 
> Air - Shawn Mendes  
> A Twist In My Story - Secondhand Serenade  
> Sorry - Justin Beiber

**Author's Note:**

> Songs used:
> 
> Love Me Again by John Newman  
> Car Radio by Twenty-One Pilots  
> Hips Don't Lie by Shakira and some other guy that I can't remember


End file.
